Dream Story by Arthur Schnitzler Page B

the heart of the city. It was already seven o'clock in the evening when he stood before the old house in Schreyvogel Strasse. As he looked up at Marianne's window, her image, which had completely faded from his mind, was revived—more clearly than that of all the others. Well— there was no chance of failure here. He could begin his work of vengeance without any special exertion and with little difficulty or danger. What might have deterred others, the betrayal of her fiance, only made him keener. Yes, to betray, to deceive, to lie, to play a part, before Marianne, before Albertina, before the good Doctor Roediger, before the whole world. To lead a sort of double life, to be the capable, reliable physician with a future before him, the upright husband and head of a family. And at the same time a libertine, a seducer, a cynic who played with people, with men and women, just as the spirit moved him— that seemed to him, at the time, very delightful. And the most delightful part was that at some future time, long after Albertina fancied herself secure in the peacefulness of marriage and of—family life—he would confess to her, with a superior smile, all of his sins, in retribution for the bitter and shameful things she had committed against him in a dream.
    On the steps he met Doctor Roediger who held out his hand cordially.
    "How is Fraulein Marianne?" asked Fridolin, "is she a little more composed?"
    Doctor Roediger shrugged his shoulders, "She was prepared for the end long enough, doctor.—Only when they came this noon to call for the corpse———"
    "So that's already been done?"
    Doctor Roediger nodded. "The funeral will be at three o'clock tomorrow afternoon."
    Fridolin looked down. "I suppose— Fraulein Marianne's relatives are with her?"
    "No," replied Doctor Roediger, "she is alone now. She will be pleased to see you once more, for tomorrow my mother and I are taking her to Modling." When Fridolin raised his eyes with a politely questioning look, Doctor Roediger continued: "My parents have a little house out there. Good-bye, doctor. I still have many things to attend to. It's unbelievable how much trouble is connected with such a—case. I hope I shall still find you upstairs when I return." And as he said this he reached the street.
    Fridolin hesitated a moment, then slowly went up the stairs. He rang the bell and Marianne herself opened the door. She was dressed in black and had on a jet necklace which he had never seen before. Her face became slightly flushed.
    "You made me wait a long time," she said, smiling feebly.
    "Forgive me, Fraulein Marianne, this was a particularly busy day for me."
    They passed through the death-chamber, in which the bed was now empty, into the adjoining room where, under the picture of the officer in a white uniform, he had, the day before written the death certificate of the Councilor. A little lamp was burning on the writing desk, and it was nearly dark. Marianne offered him a seat on the black leather divan and sat down opposite him.
    "I have just met Doctor Roediger. So you are going to the country tomorrow?"
    Marianne seemed little surprised at the cool tone of his question and her shoulders drooped when he continued almost harshly: "I think that's very sensible." And he explained in a matter-of-fact way what a favorable effect the good air and the new environment would have on her.
    She sat motionless, and tears streamed down her cheeks. He saw them, feeling impatient rather than sympathetic. The thought that the next minute, perhaps, she might be lying at his feet, repeating her confession of the night before, filled him with fear. When she said nothing he got up suddenly. "Much as I regret it, Fraulein Marianne—" He looked at his watch.
    Still crying, she raised her head and looked at Fridolin. He would gladly have said something kind to her, but found it difficult to do so.
    "I suppose you will stay in the country for several days," he began rather awkwardly. "I hope